


Blame as Dear as Praise

by voleuse



Category: Dickinson (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28125216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: Trifles look so trivial as soon as you have come.Until the boundaries are redrawn, they'll ignore them.
Relationships: Austin Dickinson/Susan "Sue" Gilbert, Ben Newton/Emily Dickinson, Emily Dickinson/Susan "Sue" Gilbert
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Blame as Dear as Praise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [intrikate88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intrikate88/gifts).



> AU after 1.09, "Faith Is a Fine Invention."

It was daybreak and Emily was sitting on the stairs when Austin found her. "Hey." He settled a step below her.

Emily had been leaning against the wall, but she shifted to bump shoulders with him. "Hey."

"His fever broke?" Austin asked.

Emily nodded. "I think so. The doctor's checking on him now."

"Good," Austin replied. He rested a hand on Emily's shoulder. "Good."

***

Ben's convalescence was long. Emily asked Maggie and her mother for cooking lessons, using the excess food as an excuse to pay Ben visits. (Every once in a while, Maggie gave Emily a wink after suggesting, "Maybe make two, just to get the feel for it.") It turned out Emily was a better hand at poultry, but Ben had a lot to teach her about puddings.

When Sue and Austin moved into their own cottage, Emily talked her way into extra time next door. She told her mother she was learning...embroidery? Knitting? Something related to a surprise gift for Lavinia. While Austin worked with Father and Ben in expanding the firm, Emily and Sue spent glorious afternoons together, sitting under their tree and trading theories about the world.

The most profound change, however, was in Emily's father. Unencumbered by politics, he'd become lighter, more at ease with the reality of his family. He never asked Emily about her poetry, but he never forbade her it, either.

***

It became more and more natural for Emily to spend her days in Sue's home, especially as Lavinia's art took up more space in the sitting room. And as Father began hosting his version of salons, Emily found herself remaining within Sue's refuge.

One evening, they found themselves alone, Austin having been compelled next door to discuss politics which, Austin said, would probably bore them. (It wouldn't have, Emily suspected, but at least he didn't think it would go over their heads.) He caught Sue about the waist before he departed, landing a kiss on the side of her neck, then on her lips. Then he looked over at Emily, the side of his mouth quirking up. "I trust you," he said to Sue. Then he donned his hat and slipped out the door.

"What was that about?" Emily asked as Sue returned to sit by the hearth with her. 

"We're learning to understand each other," Sue said. She ducked her head and Emily didn't recognize this particular smile. "He thought he'd likely be absent until midnight."

"I'll never understand what you see in him," Emily said, though without rancor. 

Sue leaned forward and caught Emily in a long kiss. When they parted, she said, "Probably for the best."

***

Ben's breath fluttered warm against Emily's skin as she curled against him. Sunlight streamed through the glass of the window and he was reciting poetry.

"It's hard to believe," Emily said, reaching up to stroke through Ben's hair, "that any of this could be real."

Ben chuckled. "I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to be." He traced his fingers down her spine, his touch, as always, only a step beyond hesitant. "I mean, technically we should barely even speak to each other, let alone--"

"That reminds me," Emily replied, "I forgot to offer you proper condolences."

"Condolences?" Ben asked.

"Of course." Emily shifted to prop herself up by the elbow. "Regarding your dead imaginary wife."

Ben nodded. "Ah, yes. From imaginary tuberculosis. It was fairly tragic. And imaginary."

"I am, in fact, a bit offended not have been invited to the imaginary funeral."

"Well, she always had imaginary suspicions about you, so." Ben pressed his lips against her forehead.

Emily urged him downward, their breath mingling for a moment before the kiss. They exchanged snippets of poetry in the pauses, which was less of a challenge than it would be for most others.

Later on, Emily sighed. "You realize how things will change, as you're now a widower."

"Hm." He tapped a finger against the ring she'd slipped onto her thumb. "You knew it might. We both did."

She pouted. "It's as if nobody understands what an anti-marriage is."

Ben met her moue with an equally dramatic eyeroll. Then, sobering, he tugged the ring off her thumb and slipped it onto her fourth finger. "It could be," he suggested, "what we have now. The only difference would be where you sleep."

"Where _I_ sleep?" Emily asked. 

"Would you rather continue living with your mother?" he responded.

***

It was Lavinia's birthday. There was a party. Naturally, Emily, Sue, and Austin had retreated to wherever Jane wasn't. (Ben, in a sweep of luck, was away with Father at some sort of convention.)

Emily picked up one of her failed bread loaves and tossed it to Austin. "She is absolutely going to fall for Joseph again."

Austin thumped the loaf before lobbing it back at her. "There's no way," he replied. "She saw right through him last time."

"It's hard to turn down a sure thing," Sue noted. She reached out to catch the loaf as Emily threw it her way. 

Austin snorted. He raised his hands to beckon the next toss.

Sue smirked at him. "Why do you think I married you?"

"Ouch," Emily observed.

Austin seemed to come very near to sticking his tongue out at Emily as he tossed the loaf to her. Instead, he turned to Sue and batted his eyes.

Sue only managed a stern expression for a few moments. "Austin," she said, "of course I love you."

"It's nice to hear you say it once in a while," Austin replied.

Emily flipped the loaf once, then twice in her hands. "Only once in a while, huh?" 

Sue groaned. "Both of you."

Emily replied, "Sorry, Sue," even as Austin huffed, "Fine."

***

Emily and Sue watched as Ben and Austin attempted the fine art of boxing, or at least some facsimile thereof.

"I will never understand this sport," Emily said. "Or why so many men seem so devoted to it."

Sue said, "Oh, I don't know." Austin had doffed his coat, while Ben's hair was in uncharacteristic disarray. "It seems somewhat invigorating."

"Why not running? Or riding?" Emily suggested. She slumped back against the tree trunk and tugged until Sue lay her head in her lap. With a quick twist, she undid the bun of Sue's hair and began a sloppy braid.

Sue shifted her head to avoid getting her hair pulled. "Dancing, maybe," she said. "Something like that."

"I can think of a lot of things," Emily replied. Then she curved forward to brush her lips against Sue's, while their husbands laughed and grappled the afternoon away.

**Author's Note:**

> Title and summary adapted from [Dear March - Come in -](https://poets.org/poem/dear-march-come-1320) by Emily Dickinson.


End file.
